Titan: Gods and Men
by Hawki
Summary: Titan Oneshot: In Peruvian mythology, it was said that the blood of the living had to be spilt to feed the dead. If that was true, given the conflict that plagued the world, the dead would have to be having a field day.


_A/N_

_Idea for this came from an exhibit at the National Gallery in Canberra, namely one titled _Gold and the Incas_. One of the most interesting parts I found was that of Peruvian mythology/religion, along with the cultural development of the peoples of the region as a whole. Anyway, came up with this as a result._

* * *

**Gods and Men**

"Sometimes…it feels like the whole world's a battlefield, ya know? Like this is all one game? That I get stronger every time I take a life? You know what I'm talking about?"

The jaguar flicked its tail.

"I mean, I helped raise Atlantis. I partook in the revival of Tenochtitlan. But it doesn't seem to make any difference. You know what I'm talking about?"

The jaguar yawned.

"Ah, what would you know?"

Very little, Victoria reflected. She didn't know why she was talking to a jaguar, or why the jaguar was letting her talk instead of trying to eat her. Maybe it wasn't hungry. Maybe it knew that if it tried anything funny she could cut it down where it sat. Maybe, like her, it had become so fed up with the world it no longer cared what happened.

_And is that it? _the explorer wondered, looking at the temple's carvings. _Is that how this religion sprung up, the same way that every other religion did? People had no meaning so they had to invent something up to define themselves and the world around them?_

Victoria glanced back at the jaguar, part of a final check that it was indeed comfortable with having her around provided it didn't interrupt its afternoon nap. Animals seemed content in their existence, she reflected. They were animals of instinct. Human instincts were so wild and varied that it was a wonder they'd survived long enough to be put at risk of extinction in the first place.

"So," she said, looking back at the temple's carvings, shining her torch over them. "This is the hierarchy of the beliefs of the people who lived her thousands of years ago. You following me?"

The jaguar started licking its paws.

"The first realm was of the sky, the dwelling of the gods, represented by birds." She looked back at the jaguar. "I'm going to call you Benji if that's okay? Easier to operate like that."

Benji didn't react.

_Gods I'm crazy, thinking that a cat even understands me. Just like Stone Henge._

Victoria shook her head, trying to ignore _that _little piece of history. Instead she kept reading.

"So, the second realm was that of the earth, where humans lived and worked, represented by felines." She laughed. "Hear that Benji? You're related to us…maybe."

Benji opened an eye for a second before closing it again.

"And the third realm was that of the underworld. The domain of the dead, represented by serpents. "Huh," Victoria said, looking at the figures before her. "Charming."

It kept going. She read as it was said that offerings were made to the sky for rain, as earth interacted with the realm above. She read as earth interacted with the realm below. As…

"And blood sacrifice was required to avoid catastrophes such as droughts, earthquakes, and floods. As the living required rain from the realm above, so did the dead need blood from the realm of earth." She turned her torch off. "Well, no wonder no catastrophes have struck this part of the world yet. We're too busy providing the blood ourselves."

She glanced at Benji. He got to his feet, stretching like a common house cat. Victoria choked back a laugh, which in turn had been meant to mask a sob. All this history, all this brutality, the reflections of how little humanity had changed in the long run…and the cat didn't even give a damn.

"Damn!"

She slammed a fist against the stone wall. She bit back a second curse as she examined her handiwork – no damage to the wall, and plenty of damage to her knuckles.

_Blood. More blood on my hands. Guess I'm used to that._

Time travel. Gods. Lost civilizations. The miracle of steam. And in the midst of it all, adventurers being as willing to kill each other as help one another. It-

_Huh?_

She looked down as Benji as the jaguar licked her bloody hand. His tongue was warm and she winced, but it nonetheless removed the blood from her skin.

"Um, thanks," Victoria said. She reached out her good hand for the cat. It found its way behind Benji's ears, and stayed there as she began to rub it. "Nice kitty."

Benji yawned again. Even in here, the summer heat was something fierce. Like it had always been.

_Maybe the people had it right. Maybe cats _are _close to us._

Or maybe it was baloney and she'd just happened to find the only tame jaguar in this part of the world.

But at the least, Victoria felt a bit better for the experience.


End file.
